Five Senses  The Way to Awakening
by silversurf4
Summary: Variation on a theme...slightly more realistic imagining of the events post S2 Finale.  COMPLETED 12 Sep 2011
1. Chapter 1

**Five Senses – The Way to Awakening**

Setting: Takes place just after the S2 finale and points thereafter. A variation on a theme and slightly more realistic version of how Crews and Reese might deal with the revelations of One.

Pairing: Crews & Reese - as it should be.

Rating: T+ (a little racy, but nothing graphic).

* * *

><p><strong><em>Chapter One - Touch<em>**

It was well past midnight when he crept quietly into Reese's hospital room. Everyone else was forced to leave when visiting hours concluded, so Crews thought it was safe to check on her; the night held solace and privacy from others and she was sure to be sleeping, so he would not have to cope with that look in her eyes – the one that scared him. There was something about the way she gazed at him that day that he knew would be his undoing.

It began the instant Roman's man pulled her from the car and they linked eyes after weeks apart. Seeing her deep brown eyes was like drinking from a clear pool of water after weeks of stumbling thirsty in a barren desert. He craved her eyes in a way that made it impossible to look away. He followed her with his eyes until he could no more. The fact that she who rejected any touch, reached for him, made him know his imagining was not one-sided. He had been missed. But the look she gave him as they were reunited was something he was not prepared for. It was more than gratitude, beyond that….it spoke of affection, adoration perhaps even the love he was trying to deny. Her eyes were softer and full of wonder and amazement, at him, with him, for him and that was too much, too real, too raw for him.

In that moment he hid, turning his eyes to the blinding light of the sun so that when the tears came she would not mistake them as being for her.

It wasn't something he wanted to do; it was something he had to do. In the three weeks they'd been apart, he'd missed many things. They came thinly to him, like the hint of a fragrance you couldn't quite name in the air, a color you couldn't really describe, a taste like nothing else on earth and her eyes that day seared those things into his psyche.

To combat it, he surrendered himself to the dull, but lengthy interrogation from IAD - it was almost a relief from bearing the strain of her scrutiny. IAD knew nothing, they had nothing; he batted their barbs aside like harmless pieces of fluff. Instead his mind continued to replay those moments in the orange grove over and over again. When IAD finally gave up and released him, not sure they could afford another costly mistake for the city; he went home, he showered and then he went to her.

He knew she was safely in the care of medical staff; Tidwell would hover all day making her cranky. He could almost hear her grumbling tirade at being fussed over and cared for. He had no doubt that Dani's mother would have been escorted to the hospital to see his tough little partner, but Charlie needed to see Reese for himself - so he went anyway, despite the risk of having to see that look from her again.

Her room was dark, quiet and still as a graveyard at midnight. But his partner slept fitfully under creased white sheets and her dark hair and tanned skin contrasting with starched white of the linen. Her ghosts and demons haunted her. _How many of those preceded him and how many were his fault?_ His hand wavered over her as he fought his impulse to stroke her hair and face, knowing Reese did not like to be touched. He settled for placing his long pale fingers next to her curled hand on the bedside and felt the warmth radiating from her.

She struggled in her sleep, making him sigh at his inability to help her.

He'd notice how much of a fighter she was from the beginning. She fought for every ounce of respect from the men they worked with. She'd fought an addiction to drugs and her she waged a daily battle with alcoholism. She fought her father almost constantly, sometimes over him - he knew this. She whispered her fear to him in those moments before the department descended upon them in that orange grove – that Nevikov killed her father.

She feared her father even loathed him and yet, she still loved him; her tearstained cheeks bore testament to it as she confessed it in hushed tone guiltily in the hot sun and thick dust. She let him comfort her with comments that her old man was too tough to kill, but deep down they both knew Roman killed many people and Jack Reese could be among that unknown number. He promised her they would find the truth together, unable to deny her anything.

And she who fought so hard, trusted no one and never accepted help; asked for his help, longed for his trust and with her choice and his acceptance came the closeness they had both resisted but could no longer deny.

He was so caught up in his internal musings that he was surprised by a strong, soft female voice, which came to him from the darkened corner of the room, but he instantly recognized the timbre and cadence. It was Reese's voice, so he knew it had to be Dani's mother.

"Go ahead, do as you wish. Touch her," she coached.

He never stopped staring at his partner as he argued in a low tone. "She doesn't like to be touched."

"Your touch will bring her peace. You know this," she urged him to do what he knew he should not.

"It's not…I shouldn't," he talked more to himself than Dani's mother who sat quite still in the dark. He smoothed the sheet and turned to face her, but stopped as Dani whimpered in her sleep.

"Why shouldn't you give her what it is obvious you both want?"

"I'm dangerous for her, dangerous to her," Crews explained his gaze wandering back to Reese.

"Love is always dangerous," she said cryptically.

"Love?" Charlie stammered. "No, I'm not her… She has a…um… There's another guy who…" Words failed him and again Dani wrestled in her sleep.

"Then why are you here?"

Crews stared mutely into the dark knowing there were no answers only questions.

He was unable or unwilling to give voice to his emotion because to give it voice was to acknowledge and feed it. The faint love he felt that had grown from the moment they pulled her from the white Cadillac in his orange grove – grew into the raging, beating one that hammered in his chest. His heart beat with purpose once more – for her, but he caged it and kept it mute whilst trying to walk back the hands of time and force his emotions back into their cage.

He breathed deeply trying to restore the balance she stole from him, but then Dani called to him, his name on her lips once again, "Crews." He was powerless to disobey.

"I'm here," he responded and the rest of the world faded as her eyes opened.

"You just can't stop talking can you," she teased her voice coarse from sleep.

His grin rewarded her and his blue eyes shone in the dim light of her room.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he offered gently, "I was just talking to your mom." He looked behind him and found no one there.

Dani's raised brows showed her skepticism, "Crews, my mom left hours ago."

Crews appeared perplexed at the vanishing act. He paused before speaking and thought hard about what he'd just experienced. He'd been so long without sleep and so singularly focused he might have hallucinated the entire exchange. _Just whom was he talking to? Himself? Dani? Was he trying to convince himself he loved her or talk himself out of it? _

"I don't know why I'm here," he ventured.

"To finish what we started earlier," Dani informed him appearing wise beyond her relative years as she waited for him to catch up. She knew in the instant she saw him standing whole and alive against all possible odds that she'd never leave him again. Right or wrong their destinies were tied together in a way she did not understand but felt to her core.

"Finish what?" He moved away obliquely trying to create space and distance between them.

"Uh..how many men and women are in the LAPD, Crews?" she pushed.

"Pbbftt, I dunno," he avoided, "lots, I guess."

"Guess. Give me a number," she demanded pushing herself into a sitting position.

"Twenty, maybe twenty-five thousand," he responded powerless under her spell.

"Twenty five thousand sworn, give or take, but you were the one who came for me," she got stronger as she spoke, "the only one who came for me. And I knew you would. I knew only you could," she pressed harder.

"Reese," his voice pled with her to leave it alone.

Something in her face told him she would not, she could not - she was awake now. She knew it and he could see it. Her awakening occurred slowly over the period of time she was away, but she was different now – stronger. She compelled truth from him – he could no longer hide from her.

"I had to. It was my fault," his emotion got the better of him. "He took you to get to me and I needed to make sure you were safe." His voice returned and his confidence with it. "I never wanted you to get caught up in this – whatever this is," he promised.

"Too late," she countered, "We are both caught up in this. I'm your partner. I never should have left you and I won't be doing it again."

"Reese," he implored again, a whine evident in his request. He knew he would lose to his strong willed young partner, but it was, in truth, a battle he wanted to lose. He missed the smell of her, the warmth of her wry smile, the bite of her caustic wit and a thousand other things he'd never realized until she was gone. "I was thinking that maybe being partnered with me isn't so good for you," he tested waiting for her scathing reply. She'd never let him win, but he had to at least make an attempt.

"That's why I do the thinking, Crews. Not you," she warned dismissively, "besides you promised we'd find out what happened to my father – together," she finished darkly.

He fought the smile her dark tone brought – he'd missed that too. He'd missed it all - her pushy demanding tone, the constant need to control – to drive – to command, her threatening glares, heavy sighs and the intimation that all 5'1" of her could push his larger over six foot frame around through the sheer force of her will.

"Okay, you win. But I'd better go. You need to rest." He let her keep thinking that and convinced himself that if he kept her close he could keep her safe. This time he did smile and she rewarded him with a shy, genuine smile of her own. Trouble – he thought – big trouble. He was head over heels for that dark little angel of his and she probably knew it.

* * *

><p>Two weeks later, she was back at work, but something strange was going on between Dani and her illicit lover, their Captain. She was giving him a shoulder so cold he might just get frostbite. Charlie danced around the edges of her anger, feeding her coffee and trying to keep them from having a public blowout at work.<p>

Crews alone knew the extent of Tidwell's anxiety and the level of risk Tidwell took in providing assistance to Charlie when Roman had taken her. The man swallowed his pride and asked for Crews' help. Charlie knew it had to be a blow to the man's ego – his girlfriend on tape asking for another man, but he swallowed it and welcomed Crews' assistance. He seemed to know the depth of Charlie's commitment to his partner, but neither of them appreciated how deep the link between the two detectives extended. He'd tried to inquire with Tidwell, but the Captain just shrugged and dragged his hands through his long hair.

"When you figure her out let me know," Tidwell sighed and stomped off.

So finally, Charlie broached the subject with her, in the car, where she couldn't storm off. "Wanna tell me what's up with you and Tidwell?"

She tried to burn him down with her glare, but it bounced off his sunny disposition.

"You don't scare me any more Reese," he confessed. "To be honest, you never did scare me, but I tried to be politely intimidated on account of you being in such a tight spot." He paused and then asked the question again, "What's up with you and Tidwell?"

"It's none of your business," she replied testily.

"You're right," he admitted. "He's none of my business. You and him – that's none of my business, but…" he paused for effect, "you? You are my partner. I care about you and I'm making it my business," he held firm and then paused again before continuing. Then he gave her the easy out, knowing full well she wouldn't take it, "that is unless you don't wanna be partners anymore?"

"Just because we're partners, doesn't mean you get to stick your nose in my personal life," she shot back angrily.

"Oh, yes it does, sweetheart." He pushe. "It gives me exactly that right. Everything is connected – you are connected to me and that makes it my business. Now what's bugging you Reese?"

She heaved another heavy sigh at him and tossed another dark glare at him.

"Come on," he teased. "Spill it. And that look? Not even worthy of you," he chuckled.

"You don't have to take such perverse pleasure in this," her annoyed voice came back to him as she pinched the bridge of her nose to stave off the coming headache.

He didn't answer her, partly because her comment didn't require a response and partly he didn't want to acknowledge her hunch that he took a personal interest in her relationship with Tidwell. In the deepest recesses of his mind, behind doors he closed off and barricaded Charlie knew that his interest in his partner went beyond the professional and they had for a long time now.

Moments ticked by and neither of them said anything, but Crews knew how to wait. He'd spent a lot of time alone. He knew that if he waited she'd tell him – she wanted to tell him. So he waited, pulling a bright red apple from his pocket, he began shining it on his coat sleeve.

"So help me god," she breathed a ragged sigh, "you bite into that apple and you're walking home." Her threat was just a roadblock, but he gave her that much and pocketed the apple just the same.

"Do you remember how long I was at the FBI?" she ventured.

"Uh, yeah," he gave her a little, "something on the order of three weeks…."

She waited, stared hard at him, her eyes inscrutable, and she laid him bare forcing him to give her the rest. "Okay, fine…three weeks, four days, fifteen hours – give or take," he admitted telling her that he missed her every minute of her absence without actually saying the words.

She smiled slightly, but he caught it. "All they ever asked me about was you," she admitted in a hoarse whisper. "You and my father. You and Rayborn. You and those murders," she confessed.

"I'm sorry that you had to go through that," he said guiltily looking at his shoes.

"It's not your fault," she deflected. "It was always about you."

He couldn't help the way his head snapped up when she used the same words Rayborn had. But she noticed his reaction.

She held his eyes. "I think he knew," she breathed. Tears welled in the eyes of a woman who did not cry. "I think he knew," she whispered. She did have to say who he was – Charlie knew. She thought Tidwell knew.

Her twisted little brain and lack of self-worth worked that way. The assignment to the FBI was about him; Tidwell's interest in her was about him. It was always about him – Charlie Crews. It was the way Dani's brain worked…._because who would want her anyway? She was a screw-up, an addict, an alcoholic_ and she believed those things in a way that her fears reinforced.

There was no sense in arguing with her – that was how Reese's brain was wired. He had to find another way. He couldn't help the reflex that compelled him to capture the escaped teardrop with the pad of him thumb. The sigh that escaped her made his heartbreak and he flattened his palm against her cheek feeling the smooth warm skin there.

She knew what he was doing. Charlie touched her in ways no one else did. It had nothing to do with sex, not yet anyway. Her whispered scolding was light but still thick with emotion, "do you always have to touch everything?" She tried to laugh but it sounded more like a sniffle.

"Only you…" he replied in a moment of absolute honesty, "I only have to touch you."

Then he broke contact and threw his shields up again. This was dangerous for her, dangerous for them both. He pushed back from what he desperately wanted and steeled himself. He cleared his throat and the tenderness between them evaporated like morning dew before the bright sun.

* * *

><p>The conversation continued in the car several hours later when it became clear that she was not going to let go of her anger with their Captain. It was effecting their working relationship with their boss, which was one of the many reasons the Department frowned on dating your boss, your partner and other cops in general.<p>

"So you don't trust him?" he said levelly with what he thought was sufficient distance established between them.

Earlier they had been there in the same moment, the same breath and he took himself out of it. He wrenched himself away from her and he told himself it was to protect her, but it still hurt – he could see the flash of pain cross her face and eyes and then it was gone as her own high walls went up with lightning speed.

She nodded answering his question, not trusting her voice. She'd trusted in Tidwell, opened up to him and he'd betrayed her – or so she believed. It made Charlie uncharacteristically angry with the man even though he did not share her fears – just for having reinforced her opinion of herself as not worthy. Dani Reese punished herself for sins he did not know about and things he could never envision, but her pain was real to him – as real as his own.

"I think we should consider getting you another partner," he bargained knowing she'd fight him.

"I wish you'd stop saying that. Why would I do that? How would it help?" she responded curiously, but without the anger her challenges normally held. "Do you honestly think that what's going on here," she intimated with a back and forth motion of her finger between them, "will be over when we stop working together?"

Straight for the jugular – Dani could be brutally honest, even vicious sometimes and she'd cut right through his bullshit and laid all her cards on the table. She was calling his bluff – she was all in and he was blown away.

Shock and surprise registered on his face, he couldn't hide from her – not anymore. Something else happened to Reese in their time apart, she'd recognized their deep bond and their infinite connection and she wasn't backing down. It wasn't her style.

"No," he answered simply, honestly and felt the tightness in his chest ease, "I don't." He gave her the truth she deserved. "I'd like to think this," he used his finger in the same back and forth gesture between them, "we - will never be over."

She rewarded him with a genuine smile and then shocked him by winking, just before she pulled her shades over her eyes hiding them from him. She added, "Yeah, that what I thought," before turning the car's ignition switch over and sparking the engine to life.

She wasn't beaten, broken or bowed by being kept captive. She'd emerged stronger, more sure than he'd ever seen her. Her cockiness was infinitely more attractive than her diffidence and even then he'd loved her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Five Senses – The Way to Awakening**

_Chapter Two - Taste_

They were sitting on the hood of their unmarked staring out across the city. The excuse for this exercise used to be they were "talking through their cases." It wasn't why they did it anymore. Without the dual distractions of the office and other people they could just be. Sometimes no actually talking occurred at all. It was a chance to be together alone.

They sat side by side, with sometimes a shoulder or thigh touching, gazing out to the city and sea below. Some days she leaned against him and those days he liked the best - even if she never said a word. He held a plastic cup or some fruit du jour and she invariably sipped a rich, dark coffee often flavored by him during the ordering with some new syrup or taste. He liked to surprise her, but he knew enough about her tastes to always select something she found palatable.

Charlie realized that sitting here with Reese was like meditation for him. The warmth of the sun and friendship beamed down on them and they felt as though they could actually feel their internal gyros winding down, muscles unkinking and their minds cooling to the point where no conscious thought occurred at all. There was simply silent company, warmth and the world with all its attendant problems miles was away in the valley below them. He'd unconsciously match the rhythm of her breath, until she caught him and scolded him. But sometimes he still did it without thinking. She'd gotten somewhat used to it – somewhat.

"Stop doing that," she chided, but her anger was false and they both knew it. So he ignored the comment entirely.

"Would you like to try some of this mango?" he offered as he often did.

"Pass," she said out of habit.

His reply was sigh of disappointment, also out of habit.

"Wait," she stayed his arm, changing her mind. "Gimme that," she demanded taking the cup from him. She was in a particularly good mood today and felt adventurous, besides it wasn't like he was asking her to eat a hybrid cactus or a fruitcake. _How bad could a mango be?_

She speared the orange fruit and inspected it like it might bite her before taking it off his fork with just her teeth and wrapping her lips around it before sucking it into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. Charlie thought absently she could make chewing on a pencil look sexy. He really enjoyed watching her taste things, but he kept that thought to himself.

"Tastes like cantaloupe," she pronounced.

"Uh…that was cantaloupe," he said shyly. She shot him a dark look and he at least had the good sense to look chagrinned. He wordlessly speared a deep orange fleshy looking sample from the cup and offered it to her on a white plastic fork with a simple smile. "This is mango."

She took his offered gift and again inspected it before taking it off the fork with the same particular care.

"I don't have anything," he commented. "You germs or things…"

She realized he misinterpreted her gesture as disdain for eating after him. "I know that Crews," she explained with her mouth full, "but I'm thinking you'd much prefer your food without lipstick on it." She waggled her coffee cup at him and showed the ring of her lips on the rim. He grinned sheepishly.

"So?" he asked after a moment.

"What?" she wondered.

"What's it taste like?"

"Crews," she sounded exasperated with him. "You eat this stuff everyday. You know what it tastes like."

He looked down and rubbed the toe of his shoe in the dirt, admitting his interest almost bashfully. "I don't know what it tastes like to you."

Now it was her turn to be embarrassed, she felt the flush creep up her neck and flashed warm from the interest he showed. Personal interest. Crews was interested in how mango tasted "to her." Unexpected and not annoying, but kinda weird just the same.

"I've made you uncomfortable," he noticed. "I'm sorry."

"No," she corrected. He waited for her and her eyes returned and they sparkled with interest – in him. "It's sweet," she smiled tightly.

"What's sweet? The fruit or me asking that?" he asked pulling at his collar.

"Both," she smiled at his discomfort.

"Are you going to tell me?" he asked pressing further for facts anxious to get away from the tingling feeling he got when she thought he was sweet.

She rose off the car and turned to face him. She stood examining him for a moment and then he saw a devilish look cross her face, one that made him a little queasy. He didn't know what she planned, but she was definitely up to something. He remembered the giddiness at his own freedom that he felt after Pelican Bay and how impossible it was to cork it and keep it bottled inside. She must have felt something like that after her experience with Roman. Joy at simply being alive.

She seemed lighter, more free than before. The air crackled with possibility and as she stepped closer and he actually squirmed. She smirked and lightly rested a hand on his shoulder signaling he should remain still. Then she deliberately stepped over his crossed legs and leaned deeply into his personal space. She watched as his eyebrows short north in surprise. She stopped just short of his lips and grinned before planting her hands on either side of his face. Her thumbs brushed the rust of his sideburns and his cheeks burned from the warmth of her hands.

Her lips were so close when she whispered, "I could tell you but I'd rather show you," he couldn't help but reach for her. The forgotten fruit cup rolled onto the ground unnoticed, spilling juicy little morsels into the dust for the ants as his hands found themselves locked onto her hips. He felt the coarse denim against the pads of his fingers and under that the curves of her body. He pulled her close and she kissed him. She was not shy about lip locking her partner and all his heady thoughts about the dangers of this liaison flew right out the window.

Dani Reese kissing him was not something he intended to be a passive bystander for. So as her surprisingly soft lips curved into a knowing smile, he opened his mouth and deepened the kiss. His tongue flicked across hers for a moment before he seized the initiative and drove deeply into the heat he found there. Then they tangled together - arms, hands, limbs and tongues; the kiss got away from them both. He groaned into her mouth and they broke apart laughing.

"Good?" she teased withdrawing.

"Best mango I've ever tasted," he murmured stroking her back. "Think I could talk you into strawberries or blackberries later?" The timbre of his voice was sultry. It was incongruous with broad daylight in public, but it set every nerve in her on fire. Spoken in the coolness of clean sheets and the dark of new moon, this man would be her undoing.

"I think that might be possible," she tempted. "But we have to go back to work now, Charlie." She brought him back to reality, climbing off him.

"I know," he sighed. "When do we get off?"

She shot him a wry smile at his unintentional double entendre and he knew he was in serious trouble with this woman. She had a wicked sense of humor, a quick mind and faster tongue. He could tell a snappy retort stayed on her lips, but given the right setting, her fiery side would show. He knew he would be lost. _Hell, he was already lost_ he realized. She owned him. She leaned very close and the rumble of her voice reverberated against his ear as she said naughty things he couldn't wait to hear again when he had the time and privacy to hold her to them.

He grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her back to him, "you better be able to back that up," he joked before pulling her close, sinking his hands into her hair and turning her head just a bit to the side. He kissed her hard and then softened as she melted into the contours of his body. He released her when they could both no longer breathe.

"We are going to get into such trouble together Charlie," she whispered breathlessly.

"I like trouble," he responded with a smile. "Let's go back to work," he whispered. "I can't wait for this day to be over and tonight to begin," he confided.

"Patience Grasshopper," she teased kissing him quickly once more before stepping away. She retrieved her coffee from the hood of the car and examined his spilled fruit littering the ground. "Awww," she teased.

"It's okay," he shrugged. "What I got was the sweetest part," he squeezed her hand and rejoined her in the car.

"I promise I won't touch you at work," he said to set ground rules and allay her fears.

"Unless I want you too," she baited.

"What?" he stammered.

She didn't answer but she wore a smirk all the way back to the station. Charlie flipped down his visor and concentrated on trying to wipe the expression of shock off his features. They traded positions as he scowled at her while she smiled as she sashayed into the office with a hidden wish occupying her thoughts – and his.


	3. Chapter 3

**Five Senses – The Way to Awakening**

_Chapter Three - Sound_

They responded to an emergency call from an officer in distress that resulted in them diving into the trunk for body armor and spending most of the afternoon helping back up a patrolman on a barricaded suspect call. It was supposed to be a simple traffic stop but the man inside was abducting his own child and had a gun. They knew he didn't want to kill the child, who was asleep in a car seat, but he had a gun. The patrolman was out of his element and tactical was at least forty minutes away, stuck in heavy traffic. Contrary to popular belief, lights and sirens do not make cars vanish – gridlock stays despite your desire to get through it.

It was hot – edging toward 90F and they were perched behind their unmarked. Using the engine block to protect themselves, they tried to talk to the man while the sun beamed down on them mightily. Sweat formed in Dani's hair and trickled down her neck into her shirt, she could feel her spine begin to spring little beads of sweat buried under the t-shirt and the dense Kevlar covering her chest and back. She felt sweat under the edges of her sunglasses and across her lips. It made her feel itchy and grimy. She remembered the day she left the navy blue uniform of a patrol officer and counted it among the happiest in her life – this was one of the many reasons why.

Charlie tugged at the front of his vest trying to let air in and she could see stains appear under his arms and at the back of his collar. It was Africa hot. The looming rain trapped dense humidity in the city and it was stifling. He was doing most the talking – she insisted. After a terse discussion, it was decided – meaning she told him to negotiate – arguing that he talked non-stop this really shouldn't be a big deal for him.

He shot her a dark look, but did as she instructed. About halfway through his pitch to the man about giving up peaceably, Charlie wanted to shoot him just so they could go inside, take off the cursed vest and drink a gallon of really cold water. He shook it off and refocused.

Thirty minutes in, he was running out of things to say and he realized this was hard than it looked. He looked at Dani who was working the phones and mouthed "SWAT ETA?" to her. Her look was dour and she flashed all five fingers on her free hand three times_. Great_ he thought 15 more minutes and they'd be relieved. Just then the man did something unexpected.

He climbed from the car and started walking toward the hunkered down team gun in hand. "Heads up," Charlie barked commanding his partner's attention.

"Whatcha doing buddy?" Charlie questioned loudly. "That's far enough," he continued when the man continued to trudge towards them.

Now both Detectives had their eyes and guns trained on the man's gun hand.

"Can you work around behind and get the kid?" he asked his partner under his breath.

"I'm not leaving you," she countered and pivoted to lock eyes with the patrol officer. She pantomimed a circular gesture with her finger and then made a cradling gesture indicating he was to get to the baby. The officer nodded his understanding and began to creep around behind the driver who was still trudging toward Crews with his head down. The man's eyes were closed and he was talking to himself.

Charlie chanced another glance at Reese a question in his eyes and was answered by a shrug of her shoulders.

"I'm going out there," he told her under his breath.

She had just long enough to demand, "don't," before he was gone – out of her reach.

_Damned crazy man_, she cursed under her breath. He was no fully exposed – nothing between him and a bullet but a thin piece of Kevlar and 5" x 7" steel shock plate. Her heart sped up and blood rushed in her ears. He could no longer see her or talk to her without turning around – it was a bad move tactically.

But Crews had a method to his madness. His brain was telling him to hide, but his heart was telling him this man was going to try to force them to shoot him. Every cop's nightmare – "suicide by cop" – a choice to make someone else bear the burden for taking your life because they have no choice but to defend themselves. He was moving silently on the balls of his feet - advancing rapidly, closing the distance. He hoped to be on top of the driver before the man raised his gun at Dani and one of them was forced to shoot him. He balanced his speed with silence trying not to disturb the man's silent speech.

Dani watched her partner, but focused on the driver. He was only twenty feet away when she picked up what he was saying. The words came back to her from catechism – the Lord's Prayer. He was saying "goodbye" to God and her synapses fired connecting the dots and arriving at the conclusion that led Charlie to try to get to the man. He was hoping to avert disaster.

The driver stopped and opened his eyes.

Dani barked "stop right there," drawing his attention.

Tears were running down his cheeks, but Charlie Crews was hard to miss - six foot one, navy blue vest, bright red hair about ten feet away. The man glanced from Reese, gun drawn and pointed at him and Crews pistol down but ready to pounce.

"Don't do it Crews," she whispered to herself more than him.

"Hi, there," Charlie smiled and spread his arms showing he meant no harm.

Dani stood up making herself a target, immediately drawing and trying to hold his attention. The driver hesitated and the gun in his hand began to rise. She had to do something to keep him from wheeling on Crews. "I'm tired of being out here in this fucking God awful heat. You want someone to shoot you? That'd be me," she shouted her taunt.

It worked, as the man probably still angry at the woman in his life, fixated on her. His eyes narrowed and he raised his gun. In the intervening split second Charlie leapt and Reese ducked. She couldn't fire without risk of hitting her maniac partner who she made a mental note to personally thrash when this was over. She made herself small behind the wheel well and engine block.

Charlie tackled the man his gun still in his right hand. The pair of them went down on the asphalt. A shot rang out and a struggle continued for the gun. Charlie only had one good hand, as he gripped his pistol with the other. He raised the man off the pavement and delivered a vicious head butt to the driver's face. The result of the blow stunned them both, bloodying the driver's nose and opening a cut over Charlie's left eye. He then used the butt of his pistol to rap the man in the face again before allowing him to slump to the pavement.

His fury continued after he holstered his pistol and rained more blows on the man who stubbornly refused to release the gun. Faraway he heard Reese snap, "Crews – stop." When he did, he looked down and the man was groaning, hovering near unconsciousness.

Dani kicked the gun away and stood poised over them still loosely covering the driver with her no longer needed sidearm. If she hadn't stopped Crews, the driver would be dead. Something happened when the man raised his gun and pointed it at Reese. The look on the driver's face changed from depression to rage. He sneered at Reese and meant to hurt her. Charlie didn't even think; he just reacted. A threat to Reese was met with an unimaginable level of unrestrained violence. She dragged him off the driver and to his feet by his vest. She was very angry.

"Are you okay?" he asked hoarsely.

"Am I…." she began incredulously. It was then that it dawned on her that his reaction was to the danger to her. Once again he had placed himself in harm's way without a moment's hesitation, but he came unglued if that danger touched her. The look on her face changed from annoyance to admiration and awe. Just as quickly, she hid it and chastised him, "look at your face."

He wiped at his brow with the sleeve of his shirt and bloodied it thoroughly. "Stop that she demanded and maneuvered out of her vest. She stripped off her shirt, leaving her grey tank top clinging to her body in very revealing ways. She used her shirt to staunch the flow of blood from his brow. She forced his head back and effectively ended his examination of her cleavage.

The patrol officer approached trying to hand off the baby, telling her he needed to cuff the driver. Dani wavered between her concern for Crews for a moment before instinct took over and she gathered the child who was crying loudly into her arms. She shushed the baby who looked up at her with big brown eyes and twisted a tiny hand into her hair and fell silent. Charlie looked down and was mesmerized. Reese's face bore an expression he'd never seen before. She looked so different and the effect she had on the baby was remarkable. The baby gurgled and smiled at her before shyly placing his head on her shoulder and relaxing. It was then she noticed Crews looking at her.

"Put your head back," she said in terse whisper so as not to startle the child.

He smiled goofily at her and commented, "he likes you."

Dani blushed furiously and commented she probably looked like the kid's mother.

But Charlie disagreed shaking his head, "No, I don't think that's it."

She scowled at him and turned away. He could still hear her talking in low soothing tones to the baby. He was enchanted by the tone of her voice and while he could not make out the words, it was soothing and comforting. A few moments later she turned back to him and he heard the baby release a contented sigh as his eyes slid closed lulled to sleep by the soothing sound of his partner's voice and the deep rhythmic beat of her heart. At that moment, Charlie wanted to be that kid, resting head on Dani's breast listening to her heart thrum solidly. He cocked his head to the side and examined them – mother and child.

Responding units poured in, seemingly arriving all at once. Time sped up and the moment was once again gone, but it there and it was important. It was another moment of awakening for him. This was something he did not know until that very moment that he wanted – for her – and for himself. He knew her commentary on kids and that she professed she didn't want them, but this was new. She had a gift that he hadn't noticed before – she projected a calm confidence that children could detect. There was something innately maternal in her – something she was embarrassed by and hid from, but could not deny now that he'd seen it.

* * *

><p>After the medic applied a butterfly bandage to Charlie's split brow, they climbed into their car and turned the air on high. He could feel the headache starting in the base of his brain winding around his head to his battered face. He leaned his head back and as Dani reached to turn the radio on he asked her not to. Her hand stayed and the car was quiet.<p>

"I can't take that thumping bass. Just talk to me Reese," he pled gently.

He felt her sidelong glance, but kept his head back against the headrest. "Tell me what you said to that kid," he probed. "What you said that made him fall asleep so fast," he asked. "Was it a story?"

"It was a poem. One my mom used to read to me as a kid," she acknowledged.

He leaned his head to look at her and gave her the very best hangdog face he could summon. "How's it go?"

She sighed, but he rotated his head back. He knew she'd tell him. He just waited.

"First you tell me something, Crews," she challenged. After a moment, she continue, "would you have killed him?"

"I don't know," he said sadly. She waited and he gave her the rest, "I lost control."

"I know," she replied in a small voice. "What made you stop?"

"You," he told her, "I heard you telling me to stop."

"I didn't think you heard me," she replied quietly.

"I always hear you. Sometimes you're all I hear," he sounded faraway, but sincere.

There was a long silence in the car while they considered what they'd each divulged. It spoke to the deepness of their bond, their connection. One that continued to deepen, blossom and grow in ways they could neither anticipate nor predict.

Shyly she began to recite poem, but as she repeated it her voice leveled into a calm tone and rhythm. When she finished, she looked over and her partner's head was loosely lolled against the headrest and he was snoring softly. It made her smile as his face was relaxed and a slight smile played on his lips. She gently put the car in gear and drove them home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Five Senses – The Way to Awakening**

_Chapter Four – Sight _

_Takes place two days after the events in Chapter 3…._

They were stuck in the office, ostensibly laying low to let him heal. He said his head no longer hurt, but she knew better from little things he did differently. He faced away from the bright light of the sun and stayed at work until dusk. Charlie loved the sun – it symbolized freedom, truth and clarity to him – all those things he was denied in the dark, dankness of prison. But she knew his head and eyes hurt. His brow was still swollen and tender under the butterfly bandage she reapplied for him.

"Does your head hurt Crews?" she asked. "Hmmm?"

"No," he stubbornly refused to tell her what she already knew.

"Okay, tough guy. Have it your way," she teased. She didn't want to force him into the field, but neither of them enjoyed being stuck behind their desks. It didn't surprise her when his restlessness led him to pace. She announced she was going for coffee and he should "settle down" – but he didn't. In fact, he did just the opposite.

In retrospect, she should have known something would go wrong – he'd get himself into some sort of trouble, after being stuck indoors – confined - for that long.

As soon as Reese was out of sight, he walked into the Captain's office and just barreled into a conversation, he'd been meaning to have for days now. _No time like the present _he reasoned. At least he had the good sense to shut the Captain's door before he let fly his commentary, "I know why she's pissed at you."

He didn't have to explain who "she" was. There was only woman in both their hearts and minds and it was the same girl for both men. They might have been friends had they not been rivals for the attentions of the diminutive brunette who would return soon and resume her efforts to bash the hell out of her keyboard in the next room.

Tidwell stared up at Crews from his desk, trying to convey ease he did not feel by pushing back and propping his feet up on his desk, "do tell."

"She thinks you sending her to the FBI was a setup," Charlie said coolly.

He wasn't entirely convinced the Captain was as innocent as he seemed. Despite the good Captain's protestations and the impressive histrionics Charlie witnessed; after hearing Dani's interpretation, Charlie turned the conundrum over in his head a few times and found her skepticism merited further inquiry. He appointed himself the "inquirer in chief."

"What?" Tidwell gaped his feet back on the floor instantly. "That's…that's crazy," he blustered. "You know how worried I was about her," he defended. "You gotta back me up here Crews," he argued. "I'm never getting out of the doghouse with her if you don't help me out, dude."

Charlie puzzled over the premise that he'd actually helped the Captain mend fences with a young woman Charlie currently found himself in love with. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face, "I don't think I'm inclined to do that, Captain."

Tidwell considered his rival for a moment. He knew; he'd always known that Crews was more than just her partner. He also knew Crews was careful to insulate her, to keep her at arm's length to protect her from the dark paths he tread on. _Had that changed? How did he miss it? When did Charlie Crews go from goofy annoying partner to something else entirely?_

"Could that possibly be because you're in love with her too Detective?" Tidwell challenged.

Crews eyes turned a steely grey. "Yes, it could," he said tersely holding the other man's eyes.

"But you're avoiding the question. Did you know this business at the FBI was all about getting to me?"

Tidwell started to round his desk and then thought better of getting into a fight with Crews right there in the office in full view of Dani and the entire squad. He simply puffed up his chest and replied, "I'm not even gonna dignify that with an answer."

"I think that is an answer of sorts," Crews glowered. He secretly hoped Tidwell was feeling froggy enough to jump. Being stuck in the office the past two days made Crews edgy and impatient. He almost welcomed a fight. He was disappointed when the other man's discretion made him pull up short.

Tidwell wasn't going to just roll over; in fact he upped the ante with his next comment, "I could split you two up for what you just admitted to me. The Department doesn't permit partner's to date."

"They don't permit Captains to date their Detectives either as I recall. You really think that's gonna win her back? I think you do that – you try to do that - and you only drive her further away," Crews staked out his superior position.

"Then why come tell me?"

"Because we work here and you need to fix this," Charlie said, "if it can be fixed." He stared out into the bay where she sat fixated on her computer screen, furiously typing and noting things on a yellow legal pad, oblivious to the duel going on behind the glass twenty feet away.

"But make no mistake," Crews stated his position, "I'm through helping you with her and you need to be very careful how you talk to her, I don't want her hurt again." There was ice in his voice when he delivered the veiled threat.

"Meaning what? I do and I end up like Nevikov - in a burnt out car with my throat crushed?"

Charlie's eyes did not conceal the rage he felt, but he did not swing at Tidwell's pitch. It was beneath acknowledging, but he said simply, "no one hurts Reese."

"Dude, you know I love her," Tidwell softened his rhetoric with a sprinkling of truth.

"Then fix this," Crews challenged. He indicated Dani in the office outside. "She doesn't need to carry around the guilt of feeling like she got used by you – just to get to me. You know the way Dani's mind works. If you love her, then fix this – even if you have to lie. She deserves better."

Tidwell nodded knowing Crews was right.

Charlie turned to leave, but his hand stayed on the doorknob as he delivered a parting shot. "Oh, and Captain one more thing….I better not catch you putting your hands on my partner again," he threatened. "I wouldn't like that."

He didn't give the man a chance to respond as he quickly snatched the door open and returned to stand in front of his partner's desk. Tidwell watched as Charlie said something to Reese and she stopped typing. Then her head cocked to the side and she smiled. He made her smile, Tidwell realized. She didn't even look in his direction as they gathered their things to leave.

* * *

><p>She worked late that night, well after Crews left. The office emptied out and finally it was just them - her at her desk and him in his glass castle of an office. He remembered kissing her in that doorway for the first time and how hard and long he had to chase to even get her to give him the time of day. It was now or never. He resigned himself to the fact that this would either mend fences between them or burn that bridge for good. He turned off his desk lamp, folded his suit coat over his arm and walked out intent on "fixing" things between them – as Crews had termed it.<p>

She studiously ignored him until he pulled out Crews' chair and sat down opposite her. Then she just stared at him with unveiled hatred in her eyes. "That's Crews' chair," she said as if him sitting there was an insult.

"Yeah," Tidwell smiled, "Crews isn't here just now, so he won't be needing it. You and me need to talk."

She glared but said nothing further. Just like she'd done for the past couple weeks, she stubbornly rebuffed any effort he made to engage her. He realized if he didn't talk fast she'd grab her things and go. "Listen, babe," he winced at the dark look she shot him over his choice of words.

"Dani," he rephrased, "you have to believe me. I didn't know the FBI thing was a setup," he opened strongly. He tried to convey the emotions he'd felt during her absence but words didn't really come close to expressing the terror he experienced – at least not the words he could summon.

She said nothing but continued to look at him with disbelief painted on her face.

"I was really worried about you," he protested. "Dani, I really care about you."

With that last comment, he lost her eyes as she shook her head.

"I was looking for you too. Crews just got there first," he argued. "Maybe Crews was always there first," he added under his breath.

"What?" she questioned. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means," he sighed and resigned himself to ending this – because that was what admitting this meant – the end of them, any chance for them. "It means that I noticed it when I first met you two. I didn't think it was real, but now I know – and I've known for some time that it was – it is. You love him."

Dani started to protest, "that's not…"

"It is true," he interrupted. "He sees it; he knows it. You're the only one who doesn't see it. Do you know that every time we talked in the three weeks you were gone to the FBI thing - Charlie Crews was what we talked about? He may not have been all we talked about, but he was there – in every single conversation we had. Why is that Dani?"

"He's my partner," she asserted angrily.

"He's a lot more than that," he shot back raising his voice. "You know and I know it!"

"All I know it that your FBI assignment….my way up the ladder? Was supposed to be earned by betraying him. He's what they wanted – he was all they ever wanted," she retorted angrily. Hot tears were in her eyes but she blinked them back and charged straight at her former lover. She was hurt and felt betrayed; but Dani didn't know how to back down so she fought back. "And when I wouldn't do that - give up my partner; betray him, become their little spy," she finally explained, "that's when they gave me to Roman."

"I didn't know!" he shouted annunciating each word sharply for effect.

"I don't believe anything you say," she replied also shouting.

"I know and it doesn't change anything anyway," Tidwell said defeat evident in his tone. "I didn't know, but it doesn't change the fact that the man you love sits here – in this chair. And it's not me, Dani. It's Crews and it's always been Crews. If you don't see it – you're a fool," he was angry too. Angry that he'd let himself fall for a woman whose heart belonged to another man – it always had.

There was a long moment of silence in which he seriously considered she might shoot him. She was that pissed. Anger rolled off her in waves so hot he could feel them. He forced himself to calm down and asked her simply, "Are you ever going to stop being mad at me?"

She just stared at him, her eyes hooded in dark lashes. He remembered when those smoldering looks meant he was going to get laid and knew those days were in the past. "Are you two gonna be able to work for me?" he finally asked.

She shrugged. "You'll have to ask him about that. I can work for anybody."

"Maybe you can talk to him then," Tidwell gambled. "Because I'm pretty sure he threatened my life this afternoon."

Her head snapped up and surprise showed in her eyes, "he didn't," she stammered saying she doubted him when in her heart she knew that was typical of Charlie. And she like Tidwell knew, Charlie Crews didn't idly threaten – he meant it.

"Oh, yeah. He most certainly did," Tidwell boasted. "Even if you both think I was part of this, I know I wasn't and I'd rather not end up like Nevikov. I think we both know your partner can kill…."

"He won't," she interjected. "I'll talk to him." Tidwell nodded. After a long moment he got up, gathered his coat and pressed the call button for the elevator.

It was silent as he waited, until her voice cut through the air just before the bell announcing the arrival of the elevator rang. "I don't love him," she lied.

"You just keep telling yourself, babe," he said with a wane smile as the doors shut.

* * *

><p>The knocking on his door had to be Reese. No one could beat on a door quite like her. She was pissed he could tell before he even opened it, but he swung the door wide anyway.<p>

She attacked the moment the door opened and she could see his face. "You threatened Tidwell?" His smile annoyed her further.

"Well, hello Reese," he deflected. "What brings you by at this time of night?"

"You threatened Tidwell," this time her statement was an accusation.

"I wouldn't say that," he parried.

"I knew you talked to him this afternoon. I figured it was about me, but you have got some fucking nerve Crews," she raised her voice at him. "My relationship with him is none of your business," she shouted.

He waited for her to wind down, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.

"Say something," she demanded.

"Do you have a relationship with him?" he asked curiously.

"Apparently, not anymore," she replied testily.

Inside this made Charlie happy, but he careful not to show it. He said nothing further and again waited for Reese to continue.

"He said he didn't have anything to do with the FBI being a set up. He said he didn't know. He says he was worried about me too, was looking for me too. Is that true?"

"Yes," Charlie told her honestly. "I believe he was worried and he was looking for you in his own way."

"What does that mean?"

"Legally, lawfully, in channels," Charlie explained. "He was using SWAT, forensics and anything else LAPD had."

"What were you using?"

"Anything I had to," he replied. His eyes were dark now, serious. "Legal or illegal, lawful or criminal, everything I knew, everything I had, everything I am, all of it," he laid it out for her.

"He's says you love me," she prodded.

"Then he's telling the truth," Charlie said looking directly into her eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me that?" she wondered. Her anger was abating and her eyes sought answers honestly.

"Because I'm afraid of what might happen to you," he countered. "Because of what they might do to you, because of what I might do to you," he confessed.

"You know what you do to me Crews?" she countered. "You drive me crazy," she said in a hoarse emotional whisper. Her eyes closed and a tear slid from the edge of one. "I don't know what to do about how I feel about you. I don't know if this is real or it's imagined. I don't know if it will last or…"

He was there in an instant sensing her distress was something beyond anger. She felt him in her personal space curled around her without actually touching her. The heat of his body warmed her. His breath tickled her ear. "It is real; it will last. I just need you to see it, to choose it. So many men pursue you; you must have spent your whole life running from people who want to capture you. I don't want that, Dani."

"What do you want?"

"I just want you to see me," he said gently brushing her hair off her face. "I want you to see me the way I see you – as my answer. My one. The one person on the face of the planet who I feel lost without and found when I'm with. You never even have to let me touch you – I just want you to see me." But he was touching her, his hands warmed her arms, from her wrists to her shoulders in slow, light, soothing strokes. He pressed a soft chaste kiss to her forehead. He inhaled deeply and then withdrew, continuing to look at her – into her.

It felt as though someone were actually seeing her for the first, perhaps the only time. Crews wasn't lusting after her as most men did, he wanted something much more sacred from her. Strangely she felt at peace with his hands on her and under his deep gaze. Normally, when a man placed his hands on her it was a precursor to sex. The tactile sensation was one of the reasons she didn't like to be touched. But Charlie's touch wasn't sexual. Sure she reasoned that would come later, but it was so much more than just sex.

She scrutinized him closely and he bore her examination without further comment, as she tentatively reached out her hands to frame his face and her thumbs stroked first his lips, then his cheekbones as she sunk her hands into his short red hair and kissed him once lightly and turned to leave.

"Stop threatening our boss," she told him glancing back.

"I didn't…"

Her eyes narrowed.

"Okay," he looked away from her penetrating gaze, "I may have suggested that he not put his hands on you again," he acquiesced knowing he was caught.

"Or?"

"Uh…there was no "or." It was just stop," he admitted.

"Okay, now I'm telling you – just stop," she coached. "I can handle Tidwell." She readied herself to leave just as suddenly as she'd appeared.

He wanted her to stay, but he awkwardly jammed his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching for her. While his heart wanted her with every molecule of his being, his stubborn head kept reminding him how dangerous he was for her. He clamped his mouth shut to keep from calling her back.

"You know," she ventured as she reached the door. "I stopped chasing boys when I turned twelve, Charlie."

"What…I…uh," he stammered.

"It occurs to me that I've kissed you twice and while I don't think I've offended you," she risked a look back. "I get the sense that you aren't as interested as I am. I gotta tell you that's a first for me," she commented almost to herself and left him standing there absolutely speechless.

Prior to that night only Jen had been capable of rendering him speechless. His mind simply failed to summon the words that would keep her from leaving. _Was it possible that she didn't know what she did to him? Was it possible she thought he wasn't interested_? If so, he had to fix that mistaken impression right now.

He snatched the door open and liked to have ripped it from its hinges with his energy. He stepped in front of her car and stopped her with just his eyes.

"What?" she mouthed from the driver's seat, gesturing with her hand.

He walked around to her side of the car and opened the door.

"Get out," he demanded in stern tone.

She did and he shut the door. She stood there annoyed at him yet again; hands on her hips, tapping her foot as a hint of a smile played on her lips. He walked to within inches of her and felt her hands ride up his chest.

"Don't," he commanded grasping her hands and removing them. A glimmer of fear crossed her face. "I didn't get to say good bye properly," he advised and her smile returned. He touched her lightly, brushing the hair from her cheek, as he leaned close.

The Detective in her began to notice things she hadn't at first blush. His aftershave was fresh and his face smooth. He had been waiting for someone – he was showered, freshly shaved and dressed she realized in that instant. _Was it her he expected_?

"Did you know I'd come here tonight?" she wondered as he inhaled along her neck and her body began to tingle. He was doing wonderful things to her and he had yet to really touch her.

"Know? No, I didn't know. I hoped," he gently kissed her jaw line and she felt him press her back against the car. "I hoped, Dani," he balanced her between the solid frame of the car and taut line of his body.

He teased her by repeatedly touching her lips with his, flicking his tongue across the divide and drawing her breath away before retreating. He was stoking a fire and watching it grow. She growled at him as he pulled back again.

His voice rumbled through her like an earthquake, shaking her insides, when he finally asked her with mirth in his tone, "Would you like me to kiss you now, Dani?"

"Yes," came her exasperated reply.

"Then ask me nicely," he teased. When her surprise and fire flared her took her lips branding his name on them and erasing all doubt of his desire. He burned through her like a fever she never wanted cured.

"Good night, sweetheart," he murmured releasing her.

Dani couldn't speak; she could barely stand.

"Next time you're coming over," he turned seductive, "call first so I can be prepared for a proper hello." Dani remained mute, as he gently put her into her car, shut the door behind her.

He didn't go into his house until she was long out of sight. He sighed heavily and looked at the stars in the heavens. "Trouble," he grumbled. "She's nothing but trouble, but I swear I've never loved anyone more."


	5. Chapter 5

**Five Senses – The Way to Awakening**

_Chapter 5 - Smell_

They were having dinner. It was an almost date. Except that she specifically said it wasn't and it was at his house. Charlie was pretty sure it was still a date – it felt like it. It felt like a first date.

Charlie could have sworn his palms were sweating and he labored in his kitchen attempting to make something that resembled spaghetti. Spaghetti was simple, Ted told him when he'd reached his annoyed friend in Spain several hours before Ted normal got out of bed to ask for advice.

Earlier he'd run around the grocery store buying things that seemed Italian and that he reasoned went together, but he had no idea of the order or combinations. It wasn't long before his cart overflowed with Angel hair pasta, stuffed olives, fresh Parmesan and Romano cheeses, garlic, basil and oregano, spicy sausages, French bread, tomatoes and other things that seemed right. Finally, as standby he'd grabbed a couple jars for Ragu and hoped for the best.

On a whim, he stopped in the bakery and picked out two rich looking éclairs for dessert. The checkout lady looked at his purchase and quickly surmised his intent.

"Trying to impress a young lady?"

"Trying," he admitted.

"Honey," the checkout lady said while smacking her gum, "it don't even have to be good. All most girls want is for their man to try." She smiled buoying his confidence. He really was trying – hard.

He found himself with butterflies for no good reason. It was just Reese after all; he'd known her three years. No one knew him better. She just hadn't known him like he was hoping she would tonight. He'd been with many girls since prison and was no slouch in the love department. He was a skilled and patient lover now. When he first got out, there were the inevitable hurried, hectic misadventures with women who he'd quickly forgotten.

But being with Jen again, even though it didn't last, cemented what he recalled about the give and take of sex that meant something between partners – people you cared for instead of ships passing in the night. Reese was special. She was important to him in – in a way he hoped would last even longer than his marriage had. Their partnering had already outlived his short fairytale marriage that ended in heartbreak.

He wondered if he should dress more formally. It was an almost date – although she'd made it clear several times it was "not a date." She reminded him they both had to eat and it was "just dinner." He wondered if she'd dress for him and got lost in his own fantasy of what they might look like for several moments. He looked at his watch and realized it was almost 7PM. She'd be here soon.

He could shower and dress - or - make an attempt at the dinner he'd promised – either or - but not both. So he resigned himself to the jeans he was currently wearing and a clean shirt and shoes. He knew he needed to find shoes.

_Later,_ he thought as he padded around the kitchen bare foot.

He started the water for the pasta, which would take milliseconds to cook; sliced the bread and buttered it – applying some garlic salt for flavor and preheated the oven. So far he had not exceeded his cooking skill.

He stared at the stockpot and all the stuff that remained. He consulted the freshly acquired cookbook and concluded he lacked time to make the sauce from scratch. He dumped the jars of Ragu into the pot and took the containers to the trash. No need for her to know he couldn't make spaghetti he reasoned. He sliced the sausage and tossed it in the sauce. He arranged the stuffed olives on a plain white plate and opened the bottle of sparkling grape juice he'd bought sitting it out with two wine glasses. They'd just pretend it was something expensive and elegant. There was no need to tempt fate with real liquor and Reese would appreciate the gesture.

The half hour evaporated and he sprinted upstairs, taking them two at a time, to find a clean shirt. He was standing in the bedroom window buttoning his shirt as her headlights announced her arrival. He waved from the second floor and caught a subtle nod of her head acknowledging she'd seen him. He descended the stairs as she knocked on the door.

He met her at the door breathless from his race upstairs. He'd selected a pale blue shirt, which tended to offset his fiery hair and blue eyes without any true knowledge of its appeal. Charlie picked it because it was clean. He was happy to see Reese had not dressed up either. She looked casual in black jeans and a heather grey, pullover Henley that was unbuttoned just far enough to catch his eye. _His and every other heterosexual male within ten city blocks _he thought.

She seemed much smaller as he practically loomed over her. He suddenly realized she was not wearing boots like she did at work. Instead she was wore simple sandals, making their height difference even more pronounced. She seemed so petite, even more so than usual. Her bright red toenails peeked at him from the legs of her jeans, capturing his attention for a moment before she called him back to reality, "you gonna invite me in?"

"Uh, yeah," he stammered a bit off balance – more than liked. She did that to him without even trying. As she swept past him, he was sure he smelled oranges. It distracted him as he followed the scent tempting his nose.

She spun and examined him skeptically. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," he lied.

She was on to him, but she let him off easy, smirking. Her look said _don't tempt me, you might be surprised what I'll do._ She was strong and confident and while those things might have been arrogant on someone else, on Dani Reese they were sexy.

He scrambled trying to refocus and cool down. He read somewhere that women liked it when you compliment their shoes. For a brief second he wondered if that only applied to expensive heels, but commented nonetheless, "nice shoes."

She smiled broadly and replied, "Thanks I like yours too."

Charlie looked down, realizing he was still barefoot, ran a hand through his hair mussing it and grinned. "Yeah, uh…. time got away from me."

"Time's like that," she teased. "Good thing we only have to catch criminals."

He stared a bit longer than he wanted prompting Dani to ask, "what smells so good?"

He wanted to say YOU, but settled for a stammered, "Uh, spaghetti. I'm making spaghetti."

She knew her way around a kitchen, he quickly deduced from the way she handled a knife and dissected and crushed the garlic. He was perplexed by the layers of the spice, but the deftly handled the problem seemingly without thought. He quietly watched her "help" and then switched to something he could handle better, pouring them both a glass of juice. He handed the wine glass to her and put her fears to rest with the simple statement – "it's just sparkling grape juice."

She smiled appreciatively and clinked her glass against his and announced "to us – another week without being suspended."

He quietly put the garlic toast in the oven. He leaned against the kitchen island watched her as she nonchalantly broke the pasta into the boiling water and then turned the burner down so it wouldn't boil over. _Yep, definite knew more about cooking pasta than he did. _

She realized he still hadn't said much and that was odd coming from her partner who more than once she'd considered gagging. She had reduced the usually garrulous Charlie Crews to a near mute.

"Okay, look," she sighed, "this is weird, right?"

"No," he defended, "not weird. Different – new."

"But…" she asked drawing the word into a question.

"Something I'd like to get used to," he exhaled releasing some of his tension. He approached her and set his glass on the counter behind her. "You were supposed to call first remember? So I could give you a proper hello?" She blushed and her eyes looked down at his sizable bare feet.

He carefully swept the hair off her neckline and leaned in planting a warm wet kiss there. She shuddered and he murmured an answer to her earlier question, "you smell so good."

She gripped the countertop behind her to keep from grabbing her partner. _Slow down Dani_, she thought, _you can't jump him before dinner_.

"Don't you want to touch me?" he wondered at her hand placement. His hands closed over hers and he bent to kiss her. "I wanna touch you," he confessed.

The timer on the stove went off preventing things from getting out of hand. They both jumped and then laughed.

"Get the bread before we have to call the fire department," she warned.

"That would be a memorable first date," he joked. He glanced at her to see if she'd object to his characterization of the moment as a date, but they'd long since given up and illusion that this was like dinners at Stark's house had been.

"We should eat," she said pulling hot pasta from the water with a slotted spoon. She placed it into the waiting bowl and ladled some sauce atop it before handing it to him.

"I have a dining room table," he announced awkwardly.

"How nice for you," she replied saucily. "Host a lot of dinner parties?"

He smiled broadly and offered, "or we could just eat here," and pulled out a stool for her. She nodded and took her own bowl and seat. He pulled his stool close and she kicked off her sandals and put a bare foot on the wooden crossbar of his stool. There was no mistaking the gesture, it said "don't go far" and he didn't plan to. He passed her the bread and poured more juice.

They both relaxed and the conversation flowed to Ted's absence. Charlie explained that his roommate had followed his heart to Spain in search of Charlie's father's ex-fiancée. Dani gaped and joked his life was akin to a soap opera. Charlie agreed and provided a colorful commentary on Ted's fascination with the woman including the episode with the earthquake and him getting a pencil through his hand.

"So while we are chasing Arthur Tins all over this city, Ted is getting drunk and making a play for your father's fiancée?" Dani was amused to no end.

"Yeah, pretty much," Charlie laughed. There was a lull as the story ended, and then he asked about her mother.

"She's doing better," Dani admitted. "Still misses him, although I don't know why," she added her own opinion.

"She teach you to cook?" he inquired.

"Who says I can cook?"

"You know your way around the kitchen," he explained. "You got more done in ten minutes than I did the whole hour before you showed up."

"Yeah, well spaghetti's pretty easy and you did the hard part – the sauce," she noted.

"It's from a jar," he confessed.

"Just like mom makes," Dani laughed at his shyness. "That stuff saved our lives more than once. Dad still thinks she makes it from scratch though," she winked at him.

He smiled and twirled the pasta on his fork and worked it into his mouth with a slurp. She cut hers into reasonable bites, but his way was more amusing. He stuck with it and she silently handed him a napkin. He grinned.

"I'm just surprised there's no fruit in it," she gestured at the spaghetti. "I figured you'd find some way to get fruit into everything."

"I don't put fruit in everything," he defended.

"My coffee?" she argued.

"Which you like," he parried, "besides…tomato is a fruit."

"It is not," she shook her head and laughed.

"No, really it is," he argued. "Knowing a tomato is a fruit is intelligence, not putting it in a fruit salad is wisdom," he recited. "Oh, I have fresh cheese, I forgot," he reached for the container. "Here, Parmesan or Romano?"

She shrugged, "a little of both I guess." She waited while he concentrated on liberally distributing the cheeses over her meal. "So tomato is really a fruit huh?"

"Yep," he absently remarked.

"Charlie," she beckoned very close to his ear. "That's enough cheese," her sultry tone and her hand in his hair made him freeze.

He turned and looked at her. She was close, so very close and he couldn't help himself as he leaned to kiss her. Her hand wound behind his neck and he suddenly wasn't hungry for food anymore.

She slid off her stool as his hands on her hips pulled her into the cradle of his hips. His hands roamed over the small of her back and settled on the curve of her ass. He didn't even register the buttons on his shirt being undone until they broke and she planted a kiss on his bare chest. He was breathing hard and she smiled against his skin and then whispered, "turn off the stove."

"Right, no fire," he mumbled. "Fire would be bad."

"I don't like firemen," she teased. "I like cops," she pulled him by the hand toward the stairs. "Crews," she reminded, "the stove."

He let go of her long enough to do as she bade and then pinned her to the wall halfway up the stairs. When he came up for air, his shirt was gone and his jeans unbuttoned and unzipped. Dani however was still fully clothed.

"I must be doing something wrong," he chattered animatedly. "You still have too many clothes on." Her grin was predatory.

"I lost my shoes," she countered.

"How about we go upstairs and you lose the rest?"

She ducked her head to hide what he was sure was a giggle. He'd made Dani Reese giggle. It exhilarated him. He swept her up in his arms and climbed the stairs two at a time arriving in his bedroom in record time. "Do you want the lights on or off?"

"You pick," she deferred to him.

"Off," he decided plunging them into darkness. "You can see into my bedroom from the street," he commented.

"Yes, I know," she laughed. "I just thought you were an exhibitionist."

"Have you been talking to my neighbors?" he teased as he waited sensing she was disrobing. His eyes adjusted as the ambient light crept in from the sodium streetlights and the moon hung low the sky.

"Charlie, there's something you need to know before we do this," she became serious. He waited very solemnly for her confession and after a moment of biting her lip she gave it to him. "I know my reputation and I know you know it. This is something else, something different for me, something new," she echoed his words from earlier. "I think…No, I'm sure… I'm in love with you," she admitted.

It would have been easy to come up with some simple joke to deflect the seriousness of what she was saying. Dani Reese had a lot of experience with men, but not with love. This was important, critical and he had to handle her concerns carefully.

"I think you know that I've felt that way about you for a long time. I've been waiting for you to get to a point where you were ready to consider the idea of us - that we could be more than partners or maybe just truly partners in every sense of that word." He paused swallowed hard and continued.

"You fill my head and my heart so much that sometimes you're all see. There are days I want to close my eyes hear nothing but you – your voice, the sound of you breathing, the way you sigh, the little noises you make in your sleep."

Her eyes flickered a hint of some emotion he could not name. It wasn't anger or rejection, it seemed almost amusement or that she was impressed he'd noticed all those little things about her. Emboldened, he continued, "I want to smell, feel and taste you in ways that are entirely un-Zen – in ways that I thought I'd given up."

He paused in his lengthy speech. So far, she'd said nothing. His eyes never left hers, but she wasn't giving him anything to judge his success or failure on. She seemed serene, calm, perhaps a bit expectant; but certainly not frightened or resistant like he'd feared.

"I want you to know how I feel. I need you to know that after prison I thought I was free. Just like after Roman I'm sure you felt, but as I walked around thinking about how much I had I realized there was still something missing – something important, maybe the most important thing there is. You. I love you, Dani and I have for a very long time now."

Finally, he got some feedback as he felt the breath leave her and the tightness and tenseness in them both abated. Her relief was genuine. She was risking her heart and he knew how dear it was to her. He'd told her in words now what his conduct and gestures had all along – she was loved.

She pulled him to her and drank from his lips. There was no frenzy and no hesitance. They met each other as equals, as people, as partners; not as tools of the others pleasure or punishment. He recognized this as real and meaningful for her as he'd hoped. She was part of him now in ways that were entirely her choice. Her heart belonged to him and they both knew it.

"Say something," he pled.

"I think we are both finally awake now," she said simply.

He had a vague impression that Reese understood Zen far better than she let on, but it was a thought that was erased by her kiss. He drew here carefully onto his bed, but paused thinking she'd want to be in charge, in command, in bed just as she was in other facets of their life, but instead she pulled him atop her. She trusted him to lead. He braced himself on his elbows and slowly sunk into her body, overlying her with the slightest pressure, until she reached for him with her hands, lips, eyes and heart.

He kissed her lightly and withdrew taking her breath with him. Each time his kiss and touch became more insistent and her response more complete. Together were two soft pieces of wood that would create fire from nothing. Then he became lost in her, not knowing where she ended and he began. At long last they were one.

_Author's Note: The end...for now. Reviews are like Scooby snacks. Press that little button and LMK what you think._


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